Page 60 of Between the Lines

I shake my head, pointedly grabbing the tablet and opening the schedule again. “Well, sorry to break it to you, babe, you’re going to have to find that beacon somewhere else. There’s no story here,” I reply with a sigh.

But there’s a lump in my throat thinking about Caden’s lingering eyes in the pool last night.

“Fine.” Halle stands, stretching her arms. “Just take that tablet with you and finish the schedule at home. It’s quiet today.” She nods towards the cafe with its single student sitting behind a laptop, napping with her chin in her palm. “Go get some sleep.”

I happily oblige.

Though the promise of sleep goes right out the window when I show up at Luanne’s to find a toddler who is more than just fussy, but burning up, pulling on her little ears.

I want to cry along with her as I plug urgent care into my maps app and accept that this is my fate for tonight.

25

Caden

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Matt’s voice booms through the phone speaker.

“Just about to leave the marina,” I reply, the muscles in my shoulder burning as I toss the cooler into the trunk of my Jeep. “Spent the whole day fixing the ripped sail and cleaning Shelly-Ray up.”

Shelly-Ray is my thirty-foot catamaran sailboat I bought a few years back. I don’t sail as much as I’d like, but I do try to keep the boat in good condition regardless.

There’s the high-pitch whirl of a blender in the background—probably Matt’s third protein shake of the day. “Maybe one day you’ll actually let yourself enjoy all that freedom and money . . . take the boat out in the middle of the week or something.”

I bark out a laugh at his suggestion.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, clicking my seat belt on. “One day. I know Fridays are busy for you, but any chance you can train tomorrow morning? Like around eight?”

“Yeah, actually that works for me,” Matt responds.

After exchanging a few more words, we hang up.

As I pull out of the marina, the sparkling water reflects off the windows of the cars passing by and I think about what he said.

Maybe I will take the boat out next week. It wouldn’t kill me to relax, to enjoy the things I’ve worked hard for.

Thirty minutes later, I’m pulling into the driveway, my stomach growling as if on cue for dinner. Purple and pink sky shows off above the pitch of the garage roof, and I smirk at the sight of Fia’s car.

I haven’t seen her all day, considering I left early and didn’t go into the shop.

Maybe that’s for the best.

Avoid temptation and all.

I attempt to stay busy in the house as the evening spills on—but instead, I find myself ordering unnecessary items for the boat and crashing on the sofa by eight.

The house is quiet, almost depressingly so, but a knock sounds at the door, and I pop up, too eager for an interruption

Like I’ve been waiting for it all day.

What I don’t expect to find is Fia standing at my sliding door in pink cotton shorts and a thin T-shirt, a pajama-clad Daisy clinging to her side.

“Hey—” I stop talking as soon as I see the bags under Fia’s eyes and her brows pulled tight.

“I’m so sorry to bother you.” She’s bouncing Daisy on her hip, whose green eyes are glossy with unshed tears. “I ordered a grocery delivery, but they couldn’t find the house and ended up turning around. I know you probably are busy, but maybe if you order it, they will listen—”

Her voice wavers with each rushed word.

“Come inside for a sec.” I open the door, trying to remain calm though my heart is twisting in the cage of my ribs. Fia steps in with haste, running a hand frantically through her tousled hair. Daisy, whose cheeks are pinker than usual, whines.